


Tales From Deshav: Shadows in the North

by ariaofthelamb



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types
Genre: Elves, Fantasy, Gen, Horror, M/M, Magic, Multi, Mystery, Original Character(s), Original Universe, Tieflings, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:42:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23864710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariaofthelamb/pseuds/ariaofthelamb
Summary: The Province of Korshahk has been plagued with mysterious disappearances for years, and there is no sign of a solution. The Church of the Steel Magnolia may be falling short with their investigation due to their resources being spread thin, but a handful of outsiders may bring what they need to the table.
Kudos: 1





	Tales From Deshav: Shadows in the North

Shadows cling greedily to cold stone. The silence unsettles Lokeil, his heavy footfalls are muffled by the crunch of the dirty snow blanketing the poorly lit street. His unnaturally bright aquamarine eyes scan the solemn stone architecture, the sheen of ice on some of the walls catches the moonlight. All of the homes were shut tight, but only a handful have dim torchlight visible through shuttered windows. He pauses as he hears faint breathing around the corner of one of the homes. 

_"Whatever it is, it would've heard me by now."_ The blue-skinned tiefling rationalizes to himself before pulling the barbed harpoon from his back and uncoiling some of the rope wrapped snugly around his lower torso _"But ye can't be too careful."_ He walks up to the corner and casually peeks around it. A stray dog that could pass for a wolf rummages through discarded furniture and clothes in an attempt to scavenge. It freezes as it hears Lokeil draw closer and growls softly as a warning. He sighs and relaxes as he backs off, digging in his bag for some jerky and tossing it toward the dog before continuing down the street.

A weathered notice board covered in desperate pleas from peasants to find missing loved ones, offering what little they have as a reward, stands beside the path from the outskirts Junhest to the Merchant's Ward. This is what brings Lokeil all the way from Hearth across the ocean, rumors of abductions all across Korshahk, the northern Province of Deshav. He dismissed it when he first heard it three years ago, but the disappearances continued despite the efforts of the Church of the Steel Magnolia. _"No Church should hold much power… they're my best bet though."_ Lokeil groans at the thought, but continues toward the central part of the city.

As he leaves the outskirts, he hears growing chatter and more torchlight bounces off the snow. Lokeil gawks for a moment as he sees a bustling market full of drow of varying degrees of wealth. There were a few humans and goliath in the crowd, but it was largely the drow population that was nocturnal. While Lokeil himself was more of a night owl himself, he never expected to see such a large city bustling with this much activity so late. The scents of freshly baked pastries, butchered meats, and spices all met his nose at once, reminding him that he is overdue for a proper meal. He's forced to take a few moments to process the scene before he eagerly begins browsing the stalls. He'd be damned if he didn't treat himself to a good meal before prodding old librarians and stuck up bureaucratic holymen for information. At first he thought it was just his excitement, but as he shuffles through the crowded market his body tingles with energy; powerful magic thrums through this place. 

Drow children play in the street as though it were the middle of the day, kicking rocks and chasing each other. The magic had to be a protective barrier, which he wasn't unfamiliar with. Despite its cold, harsh external appearance, Junhest manages to hold some warmth and positivity. Lokeil crosses the main bridge passing over the Solten River, entering the east side of the city. There is an immediate change; the cobblestone is much smoother, lampposts line the streets, and those lingering outside wear finer clothing. Lokeil frowns, looking down at his own attire. The tattered and weathered dark brown leathers of his cloak, boots, and gloves along with the faded and battle-worn colors of his scale mail leaves him feeling out of place.

The feeling of self-consciousness pushes him forward quicker, luckily he could see the main cathedral towering above the nicer houses of the Candle Ward. He peers up at the granite gargoyles perched far above the massive cathedral doors, one tilts its head to peer back. As he enters, he tucks his pendant with the symbol of the goddess Umberlee beneath all of his layers of clothing. The moment he steps through the threshold, the air becomes warmer, surely the work of more magic. Priests and priestesses bustle about the inside of the cathedral, speaking with townsfolk, leading prayers, and toting around stacks of paperwork. 

A beautiful stained glass window at the far back depicts a lit candle above an open eye. _"Deneir. I really am dealin' with librarians."_ Lokeil composes himself, making a feeble attempt at fixing his deep blue hair. A gloved hand rubs one of his horns that sweep back over his skull then out to a point away from it, a nervous habit, as he clears his throat and approaches one of the priests. A gray skinned half elf, clad in the typical silver and maroon robes of the Church of the Steel Magnolia, offers a polite smile toward the tiefling.

"Greetings traveller, what brings you here?" the half elf chimes.

"I'm Lokeil, hunter of mages and monsters. I've come to look into the disappearances. I suspect foul magic is at work here." he gets right to the point.

"Oh, that." the priest rubs the back of his neck and thinks for a moment. "Wait here. I shall inform the High Priestess. We are not allowed to disclose details on the investigation until those who inquire have met with her." Lokeil simply motions for the priest to take his leave before sitting on one of the pews closest to the main entrance. Cathedrals always kept him on edge, especially old ones. His long, shark-like tail wraps awkwardly over his lap while he watches an elderly human woman lead a group of townsfolk in a hymn. Her voice was ragged and slightly out of tune, but held intent and feeling. 

_"O, blessed angels, whom tread so light_  
 _Beside mortals they do fight,_  
 _Preserve the realm, preserve the realm_  
 _Deliver us from our plight…"_

Lokeil loses track of time, tuning out the song as he begins to form his own theories about what could be plaguing Korshahk. After many minutes, the priest gently taps his shoulder. "The High Priestess is ready to see you." the half elf informs, beckoning Lokeil to follow. 

"It's about time. I could'a sorted this shit out in the time I waited." Lokeil chuckles boisterously, masking his unease. The half elf fakes a laugh and leads him through a heavy set of doors that open to a hallway, past many small doors and branching corridors. Lokeil is brought to what resembles a war room; a massive table takes up most of the space and many chairs surround it.

At the opposite end of the table sits an elf with glistening silver skin and light blue hair that reflects candlelight as if stars floated within each strand. Her robes are heavy with her status, weighed down by brilliant ornamentation. Her icy blue eyes assess Lokeil the instant he steps in, expertly hiding her distaste for his descent and his rough attire by forming a faint smile and greeting him with a subtle nod. The lunar elf motions for him to sit.

The tiefling was so overwhelmed by the gaudy elf and the amount of celestial energy radiating from her that he almost didn't notice the knights standing at either of the back corners of the room in their polished armor, or the three other members of the church also sitting at the table. He clears his throat, unsure of proper etiquette for such a situation, he remains silent and takes the offered seat.

The moment he sits, the high priestess breaks the silence abruptly "Lokeil, self proclaimed hunter of mages and monsters. I have been informed that you wish to investigate the nature of the disappearances within the blighted land or Korshahk. I must first ask, where is it you hail from?" her voice is commanding, stern, and rings with a heavenly resonance.

_"Is she tryin' to use some sort'a thaumaturgy to intimidate me?"_ he thinks before speaking "I am a part of the crew of the Sahuagin's Remorse, hailin' from no particular land. I specialize in dispatchin' aberrant monstrosities and those who wield magic for vile purposes. I believe the cause of this land's problems are one of the two, if not both." Lokeil gestures broadly to the rest of the table. "Y'all seem to know my name, but I know none of yours." He raises a brow expectantly.

"I am High Priestess Levonia, and these are my council members; Axava, Loric, and Corinthia." She announces, gesturing to a goliath woman, human man, and another lunar elf respectively. Her calculating gaze narrows "Why exactly would a sailor go out of his way to attempt to mend such a large scale problem? What would you gain from such an endeavor?"

Lokeil waves a hand dismissively "It's my personal duty to eradicate aberrations, necromancers, fiendish practitioners, and cultists from the world… and to be frank, this land reeks of undeath." He recites in a bland tone as if reading from a script before sighing "Do I really need a reason for helpin' other than the desire to root out those evils?"

Levonia pauses for a moment, thinking over what he said and watching his body language. "No, I suppose not." she drops the thaumaturgy and rubs her temples "This problem has vexed us for years now. I fail to see how a simple mage hunter will miraculously turn up any results. Unfortunately, we are running low on resources and the Saints at Cornova are losing patience." she makes a gesture toward Corinthia, a decently armored woman with wavy silver hair and a bow leaning against her chair. She was the only other person at the table that was armed besides Lokeil… and the knights.

She pulls a stack of papers from her bag and stands. "As you have heard, I am Corinthia Septenris. My occupation as a Restkeeper comes first, but I aid the High Priestess when I can. Because I travel frequently, I have a deeper understanding of this… phenomenon and have dug up more leads." she makes her way around the table to set the hefty stack in front of the tiefling. "Luckily, I had Loric transcribe a copy of my notes two days ago to be kept within the archives." Lokeil begins leafing through the documents as Corinthia continues. "We have begun investigating the Icefall Collective, an alliance of nobles across the province that are attempting to return order and civility to the people. Many of the nobles within the Collective kept their heads low until the Church dismantled the monarchy here."

"So you suspect some sort of plot among them?" Lokeil cuts in.

"We suspect that, yes. There is also the possibility they were in league with King Tormyr. However, we don't have any evidence that could support this." Corinthia looks to the High Priestess as if asking for permission to continue. Levonia nods and Corinthia's gaze returns to Lokeil. "Lord Hrovir of Gadethka, Pontiff Rosseline of Castle Ishminova, Trade-Baron Imminos in Jadrik, and Lady Eleina here in Junhest all make up the Collective." 

Lokeil mulls over the information for a few minutes as he continues to skim over more of the notes, muttering to himself. "This really is a hellhole." he glances up at the others as Corinthia returns to her seat. "I'm assumin' that I'm gonna have to read all of this here?" 

The High Priestess nods curtly. "At least until Loric completes another copy, which will take another day." the human nods in agreement. "I would politely ask that you keep this information to yourself, Lokeil. If our query catches wind that the Church has its eye on them, it will be much harder to bring retribution down upon them." her stern gaze inspects Lokeil in detail once more "Do not impede on our work with your own efforts and all should be fine. I pray that you and Corinthia find the answers that elude us."

"I will be personally looking into Lord Hrovir soon, you are welcome to aid me or conduct your own search." Corinthia chimes in, trying to ease the tension. "Cooperation and transparency are our allies." she looks to Levonia "And outside perspectives frequently yield results."

Finally, Axava chimes in, her heavy accent making it a challenge to understand her "Corinthia is speaking truth, High Priestess. It is time we are giving trust to outsiders more."  
Levonia takes a deep breath "I will take your council into consideration, but do not start recruiting anyone who walks through our doors."

"Of course, High Priestess. You have strong eyes for the talent." the goliath praises excitedly, then draws her gaze to Lokeil "Do not do any disappointing, outsider." he wasn't sure if she was trying to encourage or threaten him, and he didn't want to find out. His tail clumsily bats against the chair as he stands, carefully cradling the documents.

"Then I'll find a quiet corner and fill myself in on this uh… Collective." Corinthia grabs her bow and slings it across her back.

"I'll show you to the archive. You won't be bothered there." she motions for Lokeil to follow, leading him deeper into the labyrinthine cathedral. Once they are out of earshot of the war room Corinthia speaks up "I apologize for the High Priestess' demeanor. She's… how do you put it… high strung?"

"Isn't that the case for most holy folk? No matter where in the world I go, they all act like they've got their holy scripture shoved up their asses." Lokeil shakes his head.

"Well, you aren't wrong." She admits, then pulls open a door, which creaks softly "This is the archive. I will let the others know you are permitted entry, however, you will not be granted access to documents other than those related to the Collective and the many reports of missing townsfolk." Corinthia steps in, followed by Lokeil. They're met by rows upon rows of bookshelves, all stuffed with tomes, chronicles, and containers of paperwork of varying ages. Not a speck of dust floats through the air. Corinthia leads the tiefling to a table that sits in a clear area at the center of the archive, then disappears between more rows of shelves. The room was lit by motes of celestial energy contained within lanterns, surely to avoid the fire hazard that oil lanterns bring.

"Have fun chasing shadows, mage hunter." Corinthia jests on her way out.


End file.
